


Death Is Like the Insect

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, Cryptids, Fear, Fluff, Heavy flirting, Horror, M/M, Making Out, Mothman Sighting, Reference to Real Life Tragedies, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri are on their way back to Point Pleasant after a fabulous date outside the town. Due to their mutual reluctance to separate, they pull off to the side of the road to spend some extra quality time together. But guess what?They're not alone.Russian Translation





	Death Is Like the Insect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [savora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/savora/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Смерть словно жук](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116572) by [Inuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inuya/pseuds/Inuya)



> One of the first few mothman sightings was by two couples as they drove outside Point Pleasant, West Virginia, on a chilly November night in 1966. For this fic, one of those couples just happens to be our favorite ice skating couple. 
> 
> I do not know where the inspiration for this came from, but it happened! ┐(￣∀￣)┌ For anyone not familiar with the mothman legend, [here is a good site](https://www.prairieghosts.com/moth.html) to read up on it. 
> 
> Sorry if some of the geography is a little wrong. I grew up in northern WV but haven't actually been to Point Pleasant. 
> 
> [savora](http://archiveofourown.org/users/savora), this is for you, because mothman reminds me of our late nights online nearly a decade ago being freaked out about the monster hardly 200 miles away.

Viktor could conclude with confidence that his date had gone exceedingly well.

It was his third night out with Yuuri Katsuki, and if the past two dates had been prelude to anything, then he definitely wasn’t surprised that round three was the best so far. The more he talked to Yuuri, the more intrigued he became about him and all aspects of his life. Suddenly his mind was wrapped up in ideas he never put much thought to until Yuuri expressed interest in them, like art and film.

Likewise, after their first date, at work Yuuri had suddenly begun to reference the books Viktor was interested in.

Of course, their shared interest in the ice skating world guided many of their conversations, too.

Their very successful third date had been at a restaurant fancier than what either of them seemed used to; Viktor couldn’t speak for Yuuri, but despite the elegancy of the food and setting, he hardly tasted or noticed any of it, for he had been much too occupied by the person across from him.

They’d talked for two hours until the staff grew too antsy over their long stay at the table, their plates long carried away.

“Should we have left more of a tip?” Yuuri asks from the passenger seat.

“Nah,” Viktor muses. “They didn’t have to work hard with us just sitting there talking, did they?” He steals a few passing glances at Yuuri, having to actually struggle to force a balance between how often he watched the road and how often he watched Yuuri.

Viktor hadn’t known Yuuri for very long; despite their three dates, he was still new in the city and new at work. But already, he could pinpoint quirks and habits of Yuuri’s, could identify the emotions tied to so many of the expressions Yuuri made.

Like now, for example: Yuuri eyebrows knit together slightly, and then he raises them a little, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. But he suppresses the smile like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he answers. “They were getting pretty annoyed, though.” Still he fights against the smile, and Viktor figures he’s trying not to laugh at the memory.

Viktor notices he has gradually been drifting into the other lane; casually, he moves the car back over to the correct side. Thankfully, not many others are on the road this late at night. In fact they hadn’t passed anyone in quite a while.

Another look at Yuuri and he figures he didn’t even notice.

Viktor tries to put more attention on the road as he steers the car around a wide curve. It’s dark and thickly forested, and visibility is reduced in some places as slight fogs rolls in off the Ohio River as the night grow chillier.

He pulls off Highway 62 and onto Route 11, which is an even curvier road through the forest. Yuuri doesn’t say anything. Viktor knows he’s taking the most roundabout, long way to get back into town. But he doesn’t want the night to end yet. By the fact that Yuuri isn’t speaking up, he figures he must definitely feel the same way; Viktor decides it’s safe to declare such.

“I wish we could have stayed there longer.”

Yuuri doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Actually,” he starts, and Viktor’s heart stutters as a thousand ideas fly through his mind at what Yuuri is about to say, “I would rather be anywhere but there, but still with you.”

Viktor can’t help it; he turns his head to see Yuuri, make sure this beautiful person is actually sitting in the passenger seat of his car and not a mere romanticized figment of his imagination. But he’s there, twisting his hands together nervously with pursed lips, eyes forward.

Their first date had started with Yuuri presenting himself extremely determined but nervous in this same manner; the pendulum strike between his nervous and bold side was constantly throwing Viktor for a loop. He loves it.  

“I can second that notion,” Viktor answers finally.

Even though its dark, Viktor is sure he can tell that Yuuri is blushing slightly.

The car’s clock reads 11:32. It’s late, and they both have work tomorrow. It’s a Tuesday, which can account for the reason no one else is on the road at this time. The only reason their date was tonight was because they couldn’t wait for the weekend. Plus, Viktor and Yuuri had mutually agreed it would just be dinner, so they’d both be back home early.

Viktor smirks thinking about that now.

“It’s a shame we both have roommates,” Viktor chides, feigning nonchalance as he weaves his car along the road.

“Mm,” is all Yuuri responds. He appears distracted, lost in thought.

“I’m sure you noticed I am taking the long way home.”

And then Yuuri laughs, and though Viktor hadn’t said anything particularly funny, his chest swells with affection and happiness at having evoked the bubbly, cheerful sound from Yuuri.

“I knew I wasn’t familiar with this area yet,” Yuuri says, “but I thought this was a little unusual.”

Viktor wishes he could see Yuuri better in the dark. Turning on the light in the car would make it too hard to see outside the car in the utter blackness of the forest he was driving through, but he wanted to be able to fully see Yuuri and his adorably blushing face and his glasses constantly needing pushed up his nose, though he adjusted them incessantly either way when he was nervous.

“You caught me. I just want to prolong our time together even more.”

Yuuri stalls a few seconds, not saying anything. Viktor is nearly dizzy from how much his eyes are flitting between the road and Yuuri.

“We could…” Yuuri starts to say at last. He pauses a moment, then continues, “We could stop somewhere.”

Viktor condenses his reaction into a tightening of his grip on the steering wheel. He _wants_ to shout yes and rip the car off the road immediately, but he swallows hard and maintains composure. “You think?” he asks, his voice much more nervous than he expects it to be.

Instantly, he realizes his indirect answer comes off as reluctant and he inwardly curses himself for being so awkward. He wasn’t usually so off his game.

Yuuri notices, unfortunately, and begins to backtrack.

“No, I guess not!” he says a little frantically. “That’s probably weird, it’s so late and we are, um – where exactly are we?”

Crap, he’s diverting the subject now, probably embarrassed that Viktor seems to have rejected him.

“I’ll pull over next time there’s a place to,” Viktor boldly states, and Yuuri seems to relax, thankfully. He smiles at Viktor, eyes looking at him over the frames of his glasses, and Viktor tries to not swerve off the road again.

Viktor’s stomach is twisting in knots of anticipation and nerves now that they’ve decided to continue their date, in the car, at night. He nearly forgets to look for a place to pull over with his mind whirling around the possibilities for their night. It would be painfully ironic if he merely drove them back into town.

The only telltale sign that the forest cuts off is the way the headlights of Viktor’s car suddenly splay across a wider distance. There was only a sliver of moon tonight, but it was covered by dense clouds across the sky. Everything was an inky black, and Viktor couldn’t deny it was a tad creepy. Almost enough that his thoughts were distracted from Yuuri’s quietly breathing presence next to him.

A glance his way tells Viktor that Yuuri is struggling a bit more with the eeriness. He doesn’t blame him – they couldn’t see anything past the lights of the car.

Yuuri leans forward in his seat, squinting hard through the windshield and out his passenger window. “You didn’t tell me where we are,” he says. “I’ve definitely never come this way. Woah!” Yuuri turns in his seat as a large mound raised from the ground whizzes past them.

He turns to face Viktor. “Is this some sort of burial ground?”

“What?” Viktor laughs. “No! Of course not. This is the old TNT area.”

“TNT as in... dynamite?”

“Sort of. During World War II a lot of explosives were manufactured here and kept in storage units built into dirt like that. There’s a bunch, and it’s a little creepy but not a big deal.”

“Wow,” Yuuri says, sitting back thoughtfully.

“We don’t have to stop if it’s too weird out here,” Viktor says.

Yuuri doesn’t answer immediately. For a moment Viktor thinks he’s going to agree to keep driving rather than stop. Viktor wants to be disappointed, but as they past another ominously placed mound looming near the road, he decides maybe it is a little too odd out here for anything romantic to unfold.

But then Yuuri’s hand is on his knee; Viktor feels the slam of his heart into his chest. They’re lucky its force doesn’t shoot to his foot against the gas pedal. Instead he grips the wheel tighter. Though he is wearing jeans, the fabric feels to have vanished, Yuuri’s touch hot enough to melt straight through.

“I definitely want to stop,” Yuuri says, and Viktor almost catches the hint of a nervous waver in his voice, but it’s quickly covered up with the seductive drawl over the word  _ definitely _ . Viktor doesn’t expect Yuuri to continue because he doesn’t need to: the point has been made. Viktor thinks he might faint from blood rushing through him.

Yuuri continues, “Out here is perfect  _ because  _ we are so alone.”

This is all certainly not good for driving.

Yuuri pulls his hand from Viktor’s knee in the most teasing manner by sliding it up, drifting just inside his thigh before retracting it completely. 

His touch was soft and nervous, but the trail of Yuuri’s hand is burnt against Viktor anyway.

When Viktor breathes again, he casts another glance at Yuuri, unable to help it.

Yuuri stares wide-eyed out the windshield, seeming surprised with himself, even. The hand that had touched Viktor is clenched into a fist at his side.

But when Yuuri notices Viktor staring, he smirks confidently. “Okay?” Yuuri asks. 

“Very.”

Up ahead there’s a small patch of gravel to the right of the road. Viktor clears his throat. “Here we are,” he declares, and veers the car straight onto the gravel. The car shudders as it drops off from paved cement to rocks, and Yuuri laughs at Viktor’s eagerness as he presses the brakes a little too forcefully. The tires kick up gravel; the car halts.

There’s a long, sober moment where Viktor and Yuuri stare out the windshield at the lit space before them. The gravel inlet connects to one of the storage mounds that’s standing erect in the headlights. The door is shut and boarded up.

It sucks, but the mood is drained with the arrival of a feeling that the mound is watching them. It stands easily over the height of the car.

Then Viktor shuts off the headlights and locks the doors. Blocking out the unsettling sight and enclosing them into safety, he thinks.

He considers turning the car off, but imagines the haunting silence waiting beyond the engine’s hum and thinks better of it.

It is very dark – but Viktor appreciates the cover of darkness. Yuuri must too, because he hears the passenger seat belt unclick. He removes his own.  

His eyes adjust to the minimal amount of light provided by the dashboard dials and digital readouts.

Yuuri is staring at him through the darkness, eyes also searching but adjusting, landing finally on Viktor’s own eyes. The numbers of the digital clock reflect against Yuuri’s glasses, making oblong, angled shapes across them.

Viktor thinks of Yuuri’s touch, the ghost of which still seers against his thigh, and he thinks of the way that Yuuri’s lips felt when they kissed after their second date the previous Friday. Hell, he really, really likes him. 

Yuuri leans forward, eagerly fidgeting, hands clenching and unclenching. “So, um,” he tries, nudging his glasses up his nose.

It’s too cute, Viktor thinks. He just might not make it out of here alive.

But  _ so, um _ , is correct. Viktor sort of wants to dive right into Yuuri, to pull him close and show him how much he makes him swoon – yet he wants to savor this too. Their next date is tentatively planned for next weekend, and tonight is coming to a close all too fast. 

Viktor decides to try for honest words. And maybe a bit of suavity thrown in.

He twists in his seat and leans in with a smile. “So, um,” he teases. Yuuri ducks his head a little and it’s  _ lovely _ . “I really like you, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuuri grins like he isn’t surprised to hear this at all. Viktor loves the little random sparks of confidence bursting through his shy facade.

He reaches for one of Viktor’s hands, and Viktor lets him pull it toward him, relishing in the touch of Yuuri’s soft skin against his, and he idly thinks that when they eventually drive again, he ought to let Yuuri hold one hand while he steers with the other.

Yuuri plays with his fingers as he speaks, still only casting occasional glances up at him. “I really like you too.” He pauses before adding, voice smiling, “Viktor Nikiforov.”

Viktor underestimated how much that would send his mind reeling.

He squeezes Yuuri’s hand. “Can I kiss you?” 

“That’s –“ Yuuri pauses, takes a deep breath, “that’s what we stopped for, right?”

His hearts aflutter. He kisses him for the third time - and Viktor can’t wait until the day comes that he’s lost count. When Yuuri’s hands spread across his chest, he wonders if he can feel the relentless pounding of his heart. 

Yuri’s hair is soft under his hands, and his glasses are - in the way, and they pull apart to laugh when Viktor knocks the frames with his roving fingers. 

Yuuri removes them from his face and sets them on the dashboard. He’s smiling, maybe blushing? Damn the darkness after all. 

His thoughts are cut off as the pendulum swings into Yuuri’s bold side again; he clenches a fistful of Viktor’s shirt to pill him back into the kiss.  _ Four _ .

Viktor is tasting Yuuri in ways he didn’t imagine he would tonight. Yuuri must like him, really like him, to let him hold him and kiss him like this in the middle of practically nowhere.

The hum of the car is suddenly just enough of a backdrop against the night void of anyone else but them. Viktor feels a little bit of elation rising in his chest, flowing to his head - maybe it’s the way Yuuri just  _ tugged _ his lower lip so gently and hesitantly with his teeth, but every concern with the night and emptiness and distance from civilization is fading fast. 

Yuuri starts climbing over the median when he freezes.

Viktor hums a little, smiles some, thinking Yuuri’s little nerves are catching up to him. He intends to lean forward and pull him into his damn lap if need be, but he stops. In the scarce light, Viktor can hardly see the iciness of Yuuri’s expression. And he isn’t watching Viktor, but staring out the driver’s side window instead.

“What was that?” he whispers. His voice has lost its seductive heaviness. Yuuri falls back into his seat, eyes wide. He reaches for his glasses and shoves them back on.

It takes Viktor a second. A second to not be confused, disappointed. But the actual fear across Yuuri’s expression helps pull him from his warm, fluttery imagination into a much colder place. Yuuri’s question sinks into his skin and his heart can’t help but thump with an echo of the fright that’d been in his voice.

They are alone in the middle of nowhere, after all. Still nearly twenty minutes outside of Point Pleasant. Civilization.

“What is it?” Viktor asks.

“Something just –“ Yuuri starts, and then his voice drops to a whisper. His brows are furrowed, eyes rapidly darting across the small space of the windshield. “Something moved past the car, I think.”

Viktor looks outside. Maybe the clouds have parted a little and let the sliver of moon shine some, or maybe his eyes have simply adjusted enough, but he can make out basic shapes of shrubs and the edge of the gravel lot. There still isn’t a lot of light, though.

“An animal?” he suggests.

Yuuri shakes his head. “It was tall.”

That makes Viktor’s blood run cold, but he swallows hard and takes a deep breath that doesn’t really help to ground him, but reminds him not to get carried away into the implications of Yuuri’s words. Which there are thousands of. 

His eyes flit over the door locks to double check they’re secured inside.

He wants to reach for the headlights to turn them on, but the thought is immediately paralyzing. If something is out there, it’s better to ignore it, right?

Viktor shakes his head.

“It was probably your imagination,” Viktor tries to reassure Yuuri. He even tries a weak smile. But Yuuri isn’t looking at him.

He’s staring out the windshield still. Lips parted slightly, not as if he were about to talk, but yell something. Eyes blown wide, no longer with lust, but horror. Eyebrows furrowed, not with contemplation, but dawning realization.

Something is reflected in his glasses. Something… red?

Viktor turns his head.

His mind doesn’t know how to process what he sees.

Two gleaming red orbs hover above the ground. For the barest moment Viktor is relieved, because the lights are just from a police car that has caught them loitering along the side of the road, thinking they were trespassing. They could easily make up some excuse about needing to pull over.

But then Viktor realizes the orbs are hovering far, far above the ground. In fact they almost reach the height of the mound. Maybe they’re seven feet up? Viktor isn’t sure, but the nature of their shape doesn’t make sense to be lights of a police car anyway, much less their height.

“What is it?” Viktor whispers. The sound of his own voice startles him some. Paranoia trills through his blood like ice. It makes him feel faint.

“Go,” Yuuri says.

Viktor is petrified at the thought. Driving away somehow seems like it would make whatever they’re seeing more real. Because suddenly they’re fleeing. And if it hadn’t noticed them, it would then.

What was it, though? Dammit.

There’s something wrong about the two floating orbs. They’re extremely reflective of the little light provided by the murky moonlight.

They disappear a second. Then reappear.

Yuuri’s gasp is sharp and cold; it cuts straight into the dark where Viktor’s heart is plummeting.

The red orbs are eyes.

“GO,” Yuuri whispers again, voice shaking hard through the word.

Viktor can see it now, see what Yuuri must be seeing already. His face feels paled and cold. He’s almost feverish with chill.

There is a vague outline that accompanies the… the eyes. It’s rounded at the edges to form something like shoulders. And it extends downward to make a whole figure, something standing there. But it isn’t shaped like a person. Something isn’t right.

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispers again, pleading.

But Viktor can’t move still, because whatever is in front of them is watching. And when he moves the car, there’s no telling what it might do. What if it charges? Attacks the car? Is it strong?

Questions tumble through Viktor’s mind in a ceaseless parade of fear and panic and utter disbelief.

An alien? He wonders. Some sort of monster? It all seems too ridiculous.

There is movement from the creature. It’s slow and gradual enough at first that Viktor could have been mistaken. It appears to be spreading, getting wider.

And it is, Viktor realizes quickly. Yuuri’s breath catches.

Its form continues to spread outward, stretching up on both sides, until seconds later it has two fully-spread masses silhouetted beside its body.

Wings.

“Oh my god,” Yuuri says listlessly. His voice is no longer a whisper but a defeated statement. The creature blinks again, massive wings shifting slightly as it turns a little.

It heard Yuuri speak, Viktor realizes with horrifying acceptance of the situation. They need to get out! Their escape was in his hands.

Viktor throws all his faith and focus into the car. His foot slams against the break as he puts the car in reverse; the engine splutters and Viktor avoids glancing at the creature at all costs. He knows it's moving by the way Yuuri cries out next to him, but he disregards it. He backs up with a spitting of gravel and a groan of his engine, and then they’re back in drive but he needs to  _ GO _ . But to do that he needs to see.

“Hold on,” he breathes. His headlights flash on, and Viktor tries to only stare at the road as he slams his foot onto the gas. He tries to only listen to the reassuring screech of his tires as they strain to shoot them forward.

But Yuuri lets out a horrified, mangled sound of horror, and Viktor’s eyes focus on his peripheral.

Just for a moment.

But an unforgettable moment.

He doesn’t think he will forget the sight. The animalistic, alien creature. Grey, with those red eyes. Expansive wings. It was insect-like. A monster.

Viktor figures Yuuri won’t forget either. He’s just clutching his knees to his chest, seat belt not even fastened. He can hardly hear Yuuri breathe.

His own seat belt isn’t on. The car dings at him every so often to remind him, but neither of them move, or speak, or maybe even blink - and Viktor  _ certainly  _ doesn’t check the rearview mirror - until city lights rise out of the bleak horizon. 

He checks on Yuuri again. He’s lowered his legs, though his hands are clenched into fists on his knees. And he’s staring wildly into the night before them. 

Viktor moves slow to avoid startling him – and to keep his hand from shaking – and reaches across to place a hand on top of one of Yuuri’s. Yuuri immediately flips his to hold it. His grip is tight. 

They stay that way the rest of the drive to Yuuri’s place, speaking nothing for the hollowness of their throats, the fear thick in their minds, until Viktor puts the car into park outside the apartment and Yuuri says, “You should stay the night. Because I don’t think you should drive back alone until daylight.”

Yuuri doesn’t look at him when he says this. He stares through the windshield, and Viktor wonders if the imprint of the creature has been burned into Yuuri’s vision. He saw more than Viktor did.

“Thank you,” Viktor responds. A swell of pressure is released from his chest. He didn’t think Yuuri would recommend that, but he’s happier than he’s ever been for anything that he did. 

He was willing to sleep on a couch or the floor or anything, as long as he could escape box of his car, the same box from which he witnessed the most horrific thing in his entire life hardly half an hour ago.

He knows Chris won’t be bothered by him not returning home, and will assume Viktor’s night had simply gone in a positive direction.

Au contraire.

Viktor parks and shuts the car off. Yuuri gets out, moving slow and stiff, and Viktor is able to meet him on the passenger side by the time he is shutting the door.

They wordlessly link hands, and Yuuri leads him inside.

 

* * *

 

 

After another couple reports the same sighting at the TNT area, Viktor and Yuuri agree to step forward and do the same. They’re asked a lot of questions, which they answer honestly. They meet speculation with a shrug, for they don’t want what they saw to be real, after all.

 _A crane?_ Viktor says. _Sure as hell didn’t look like one. But if that’s what it was, then thank god, we’re saved._

They wade through the months as more sightings and stories pour in. It turns out they weren’t the first to witness the… phenomenon, the creature, the whatever, but they were still one of the first, and that meant people were always trying to connect the following encounters with what _they_ had seen.

Viktor and Yuuri respond to the incessant probing of the media with distant, detached voices. And they don't speak of the night together outside of interviews.

They move in together almost a year later. The news ends up being clicked on one day at the tail end of a local discussion on what has now been dubbed Mothman – the eerily-fitting name something Viktor still hasn’t gotten used to. The segment is interrupted with breaking news.

Yuuri was reading the newspaper, but he pauses as the newscaster begins rapidly speaking. Viktor stops shelving his book collection and looks over.

Silver Bridge, a bridge that spans across the Ohio River, had collapsed. The number of deaths isn't official yet, but it's pushing 50. 

Already people were throwing around ideas about _it_ being involved; some people were swearing they saw it on top of the bridge earlier that day. Others vehemently dismissed the claims and explained the possible structural failures involved with suspension bridges. 

Viktor and Yuuri glance at each other.

Yuuri’s eyes are filled with a fearful sadness, and it tears at Viktor, and he wonders again as he had many times how different that fateful night would have been if he’d just done… something different. Like not take the long way home. It had been impulsive. They could have gone somewhere else and still continued their date as they wanted to. And now they would be one of the people dismissing everything as the sandhill crane getting lost from its migration route.

“This is awful,” Yuuri says. “My god, I hope it’s no one we know. Let’s call Phichit and Chris, okay?”

Yuuri is ignoring other aspects of the tragedy other than the tragedy itself. Viktor breathes a sigh of relief. It’s grounding, somehow, even though he knows what they’re both thinking.

Yuuri stands up to walk to the phone on the wall and begins dialing a number; he speaks into it, addressing Phichit with relief evident in his voice. Viktor comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Yuuri, whispering Chris’s number in his ear when he asks. Viktor is sure Chris rarely crosses Silver Bridge and doesn’t let himself worry, but he still feels a small knot in his stomach release when he hears Chris’s voice at the other end of the line as Yuuri speaks.

Viktor hugs Yuuri tight to him, Yuuri swatting playfully as he tries to explain to Chris why he’s calling.

They’ll be okay, Viktor knows.

But they don’t drive through the TNT area ever again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://yuurilovely.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Title is a reference to Emily Dickinson's [poem](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-is-like-the-insect/).
> 
> Thanks for reading ~


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